


Moving On From Him Is Impossible

by Superhusbandsfamily



Series: Flashbacks And Echoes [4]
Category: Marvel (Comics), Marvel (Movies), The Avengers (2012), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Domestic Avengers, F/M, Gen, M/M, Stony - Freeform, Superfamily, Superhusbands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-22
Updated: 2014-03-22
Packaged: 2018-01-16 14:32:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1350877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Superhusbandsfamily/pseuds/Superhusbandsfamily
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Companion to Variant 2 - Losing Him Was Blue<br/>Tony's flashbacks/echoes/memories in order</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moving On From Him Is Impossible

       “Anthony!” the greying man bellowed from the leather lounge in his personal library, a glass of bourbon in his hand. “Anthony! I expect you to come when you’re called!”

       There were footsteps in the distance, pattering on the polished marble floor and soon, a seven year old boy appeared at the entrance, breathing deeply. “Yes, Father?” he asked, deliberately making his way further into the enormous, gloomy room that dwarfed him.

       “What took you so long? Come here!” the bearded man ordered and the child rushed to his side. He had his arm gripped forcefully, exerting pressure against an old bruise causing him to wince. “Be a good boy and fill this up,” said Howard while shoving the empty glass into his son’s chest.

       The frail boy nodded silently, accepted the article and headed to the bar to refill the drink as his father continued to shout, “Hurry up, you imprudent mammal!” tossing a cushion in his direction, barely missing him. He tip-toed and  nervously grabbed the first bottle he saw on the shelf, pouring the dark copper liquid into the glass, being careful not to spill it. He wearily approached Howard with the refilled glass and gave it to him before backing away, slowly, never uttering a word.

       There was a split second of searing pain and before he knew it, he was scrambling on the floor, trying to get on his feet. He stood up and stroked at his cheek where his drunken father had just slapped him, and it stung. He bit his lower lip to stop a whimper from escaping.

       Howard then proceeded with violently throwing the solid glass at the child and it hit him in the head, causing him to fall back on the cold floor once more, patches of brown staining his crisp white shirt. “You imbecile! You couldn’t even get a simple thing like this right! You’re going to run Stark Industries to the ground!” he yelled, looking at his son with disapproval and disgust. “ _Get out of my sight._ ”

       Tony darted out of the room as fast as his little feet would take him, with a blood soaked hand covering the gushing wound on his forehead while the other was trying to wipe at the constant stream of tears down his face.

       “I want _help_ , Steve! I want to get better!”

       “Then let me help you.”

       “Hey, up you go. Are you ever going to learn to come to bed yourself?” He lifted him off the workbench and balanced him securely on his feet.

       “Nguhh...why would I need to when I have you?”

       “I don’t even want to begin imagining what you’d do without me,” he smirked, guiding him up the stairs.

       In the wake of a tragedy at Stamford, the United States Government proposed a Superhuman Registration Act intending to register all super-powered beings as living weapons of mass destruction, requiring all costumed heroes to unmask and subject themselves to federally mandated standards.

       The prospect of registration divided the superhuman community down the middle, initiating the formation of pro-registration and anti-registration groups. He, Tony Stark aka Iron Man, who had previously tried to halt the act, became the pro-registration figurehead.

       It was the dawn of a Civil War; a mighty battle between superheroes the people had once looked up to, where the citizens knew what was imminent when they themselves didn’t. They spoke of conflict that would lead to nothing more than death, chaos and destruction, and they were right. When it was over, there were novel beginnings, yet it was too late for things to return to the way it once was.

       He had lost many good friends and allies because of it, and was forced to do things he never thought he was capable of. The worst part for him was that innocent people, like Happy and Pepper, got tangled up in the mess he had facilitated. He had almost lost them too; Happy lying in a hospital bed with multiple tubes containing fluids flowing in and out of him, and Pepper telling him to turn those blasted machines off and put her beloved to rest.

       He couldn’t do it. Call him a coward but he couldn’t end his life, and he was grateful he hadn’t, because Happy Hogan, his chauffeur and sometime-training buddy, one of his best friends, had regained consciousness after spending months in a coma from a war that wasn’t his to fight. Happy had required regular assistance during his recovery period, in which Tony helped out wherever and whenever he could. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like if he had given up and made the wrong choice, again.

       “You’re not your father.” Steve gave him a warm smile, reaching out for his hand across the counter top. “You’re so much better than he ever was, Tony.”

       He looked at Steve, and felt he could actually be right. Maybe he wasn’t cursed to turn out like his worst nightmare. Steve was ready, and maybe he was too. “You’ll help me?” he asked, brows furrowed, placing his mug down to take Steve’s hand in his. “You promise you’ll never let me become like him?”

       “I promise,” said Steve, a larger grin forming on his face as he continued, “so, is that a yes?”

       Tony couldn’t help but replicate it. He could do it. Steve would be there and they would be great parents with the happiest kid on Earth. He went around the island and pulled Steve in, hugging him in a tight embrace and nodded onto his shoulder, “Yes.”

       “And that’s it?” he asked as his put down the pen he was using and quickly glanced through the documents he had just signed another time.

       “Yup, that’s all. He’s yours, and Steve’s,” the social worker answered, grinning at him and nodding towards the person cradling a newborn. “Congratulations!” she cheered before vanishing through the door behind her, leaving them alone.

       Tony stood up and turned around to face his family... _his family_.

       If he had smiled any brighter, he would have blinded someone. He wrapped them both in a gentle embrace and rested his head against the taller man’s shoulder.

       “We did it, Tony. We’re parents!” Steve beamed at him before gluing his eyes to the baby once more.

       He looked at the blue bundle in Steve’s arms and began speaking in a whisper as he leaned down to drop a kiss on the child’s wrinkled button nose. “Hey, kiddo. It’s your Daddy. I’m going to spoil you, and protect you, and love you always.” He smiled warmly then shifted his gaze to Steve’s deep blue eyes and said, “I promise.”

       “There you are. Check this out,” he said as he turned the dial and the bright afternoon sky outside magically became a starry night. “Not just windows anymore. What d’ya think?” He could feel himself grinning like an idiot but he didn’t care.

       “It’s actually pretty great. That’s what’s been keeping you up so late?” he asked, walking further into the room.

       “Yep. Just thought he deserved to have something awesome in here, you know? Wouldn’t be haunted by the terrors the night brings either and...hey! What’s that?” He walked over to the other, gesturing at his hands.

       “Oh...this?” He looked down at the wooden item clutched between his fingers. “It’s nothing, compared to that.”

       He took a step closer and lifted the freshly painted airplane out of the other’s hands and was lost for words. “It’s...beautiful. He’ll love it.”

       “Really think so?” He smiled shyly.

       He watched that familiar redness fill the cheeks of the man in front of him before leaning over to lay his lips on them. “It’s perfect.”

       “You think he’ll be okay? Maybe he should spend another night with us?” he asked worriedly, gently placing the slumbering baby in his crib.

       “He’ll be fine. JARVIS will let us know if he needs us.”

       “But Carol did warn us about his nightmares.” He leaned forward in attempt to pick the kid up again. “I think I should stay here and watch him to be on the safe side.”

       “Hey...” he whispered, taking his hand and turning him to face him, “...he’ll be fine. Look at him. He’s great! They’ve gotten a lot better thanks to you.” He smiled when the lines between the other’s brows softened and his blues shone. “Stop worrying.”

       “ _Christopher Robin and I walked along under branches lit up by the moon..._  
 _Posing our questions to Owl and Eeyore as our days disappeared all too soon..._ ”

       He watched quietly from the doorway as the man walked around the nursery, singing a lullaby into the little one’s ear after another of his ‘episodes’.

       “ _It’s hard to explain how a few precious things seem to follow throughout all our lives..._  
 _After all’s said and done I was watching my son sleeping there with my bear by his side..._  
 _So I tucked him in, I kissed him..._ ”

       The other soon noticed him standing there and gave him a smile he knew was only meant for him. He walked over and slung his arm across broad shoulders, gave him a peck on the cheek, then looked down at the tot, secretly wishing the moment would never end.

       The sun was blazing high in the sky, and various smells filled the air. There were hotdogs and popcorn and cotton candy stands around them. The park was full of life; sounds from popping balloons and carnival rides, parents running after their excited children, and food sizzling on the grills.

       There was so much to see and even more to do, but all he could hear was Steve’s laughter and Peter’s giggles as Steve swung their son into the air, catching him in his arms and cuddling him before tossing him up again.

       All he could see were the huge smiles on their faces and the joy in their eyes. Shaded under an old oak tree, he sat on their picnic blanket holding onto ‘ _Teddy the Bear_ ’ Steve had just won for Peter in one of those silly shooting games, and smiled too.

       “It’d be fun, Cap!” He beamed at Steve who was staring at his latest contraption in confusion.

       Steve sighed and carefully held it up against the glow of the bench lamp. “How does this even work? What does it _do_?”

       He found Steve’s expression amusing when he grabbed it out of his hands and pretended to lose his grip on it. “Think of it as our own little time-capsule filled with pictures, documents, _memories_...” He left the words hanging, knowing Steve would eventually catch his drift.

       “You mean anything we want to keep safe? Things we can look back on in the future?” Steve asked, clearly amazed.

       “Exactly, you’re learning fast!” he said and wasn’t surprised when Steve instantly went about the mansion collecting everything with sentimental value, reminiscing in the process. When they were done, Steve thanked him generously that night for the best birthday present ever.

       It was difficult to go places without the paparazzi tailing them or the World needing saving every other day, but on one miraculous morning, they had managed to flee from it all. Who cared if it only lasted a couple of hours?

       They were delighted; building sandcastles, eating fish and chips, having fun in the waves, ignoring persistent phone calls, and when Peter was taking his afternoon nap, he and Steve laid on the sand, talking or just simply sitting in comfortable silence. For once, it felt like they were an ordinary family, one he had always aspired to have.

       It was dark as rain continued to fall. The cold and moss covered grounds made navigating through the trees and shrubs difficult. There were the sounds of helicopter blades overhead, and the smell of burning fuel from the StarkTech Quad-Bikes filled the air. He could have blamed the harsh weather, thrown a tantrum declaring faults, but it wouldn’t improve the nature of their situation. Murky and wet, nothing was helping.

       The chill of the wind and water seeped through the damaged sections of his suit as his vision continued to blur before him. It had been hours since he last received an update from the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents above. The area flooded with silence. Only the crunch of his boots on foliage was heard. All around him reeked of death and a shiver ran down his spine. No matter how much he wanted to blame it on the equipment or anyone who stood in his way, it was his fault, and he knew it.

       He blamed himself for the destruction surrounding him. Of course he did. If he was infamous for one thing, that would be it. Once the radar pinged, he focused all remaining power to his boots and darted to the spot. He had prepared himself for the pits, but the scene before him was worse than he could have possibly imagined. Standing frozen as his mind refused to budge, he knew right then, forgiveness would never be an option.


End file.
